


The Ghost of Venom

by Galsult



Series: The Worlds of Lylat [8]
Category: Star Fox Series
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Intrigue, M/M, Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:46:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28294044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galsult/pseuds/Galsult
Summary: The drums of war set a march across the system - and a planet which haunts the minds of our heroes is the first to hear the deadly rhythm.  Fox and Wolf must put aside old ghosts to secure a peace on Venom, if Lylat is to survive.But their memories aren't the only phantoms lurking on the world...
Relationships: Fox McCloud/Wolf O'Donnell
Series: The Worlds of Lylat [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1289513
Comments: 28
Kudos: 62





	1. Chapter 1

# I

A periwinkle arc of light streaked through the void of space, screaming with a whistling sound no one would hear. It moved like a dazzling, high-speed serpent: undulating, sidewinding, yet moving with a violent hunter’s precision. It struck its target with all the lightning viciousness of a snake striking its prey, piercing the shields of the battleship like a diamond-hardened fang, slicing through the alloy muscle of the ship’s exterior, and embedding itself deep into the craft’s G-diffusing beating heart – killing it instantly.

It was followed by a hundred more exactly like it.

Admiral Ravina took in the display as he leaned forward in the command seat of his Triumphant-Class Capital Cruiser – one of the largest flagships in the entire Cornerian Navy. The fossa had started his career as a simple logistics officer, and had resigned himself to a simple life of planning the movement of troops and materiel. But the betrayal of Andross and subsequent secession of Venom left a vacuum of reliable leaders in its wake – one General Pepper had filled by placing Ravina in a captain’s chair out of desperation, one of many soldiers suddenly facing unexpected upward mobility. Against all odds, he’d managed to survive his first battle. Then his second, and his third, and his fourth – he’d eventually lost count. He’d _also_ lost count of how many promotions he’d received, only letting it sink in when he woke up one day to find himself a fleet admiral. Andross, the Aparoids, the Anglars: he’d led sorties against all of them.

So it was with plenty of experience that he realized something was wrong. It was that sixth sense all good tacticians developed (if, God willing, they managed to survive that long). The display showed the laser batteries of his battle group wreaking utter havoc on the enemy, his own cruiser’s bolts the brightest of them all. But even as the enemy’s ships crumpled like paper mache and his crew members’ expressions broke into excited grins at the unexpected success of their volley, he knew more was coming.

“Steady”, he ordered solemnly, trying not to feel like too much of a party-pooper as his words fell on the bridge like a pall. He’d accidentally cultivated a reputation as a scrupulous strategist who brooked no room for unprofessional behavior over the years. “Full scan”, he added. “Increase the boundaries by 200%.”

“Yes, sir”, a young vixen acknowledged, brought back to earth by his somber demeanor. He had no idea what she was called – he’d had so many crewmen over the years he’d lost track of their names.

The fossa split his attention between the viewport and radar screen as he awaited the results of her scan. His own command, Shepherd Unit, appeared as a collection of blue dots hanging in the aether, while Bloodhound Unit was further off to their relative ‘right’, apparently positioning themselves to flank the ragtag enemy contingent.

He took another look at said contingent. It was made up of a variety of vessels, most of them modified freighters and tankers – perhaps a little imposing, based on sheer size, but the vehicles were so poorly-outfitted they could barely be considered an army. It went against all the information they’d so far gathered about the Octovarian mercenary fleet and their activities within Lylat.

No, there was a ploy here. Ravina was sure of it. If he had to guess…

“Warp gate transmission!” The vixen shouted a little too loudly. “Just beyond the original sensor range”, she added in a more measured tone of voice.

 _And there it is_ , the fossa thought, showing no surprise or displeasure on his face. The enemy had callously used a fleet of easily-destroyed fodder to bait them into flying further into empty space without support. _One gate here, another near Bloodhound Unit_. He was about to comm his fellow admiral when his cruiser rocked to the side, bombarded with a graceless chunk of orange-red plasma that scattered and spread over their shields like a lob of gelatinous magma.

A tightly packed formation of dark, sleek battleships flew through the wreckage of their own sacrificial pawns to bear down on them, each making sure to face towards the Cornerian ships to reduce their profiles. Large cannons affixed to their bows continued the plasma bombardment.

Ravina didn’t need to look at the radar to know Bloodhound Unit was facing the same barrage.

“Change trajectory to face them”, he ordered calmly, intending to reduce his own fleet’s profiles to match. He tuned out the manic energy on his bridge to focus on the enemy: their ships having central batteries protruding from their front-facing bows like that was a very good design for fast, hard-hitting maneuvers – but it meant said cannons would be easily severable from the side, jutting out as they were. “Scramble starfighters”, he added. “Tell them to focus their efforts on the mid-barrels of the enemy cannons.”

“Aye-aye, sir.”

He waited as the two fleets exchanged fire. Precise lilac lances and shapeless orange blobs tossed back and forth to minimal effect – for now. As their ships got closer to each other, the damage ratio would start to increase, and it didn’t take much of an educated guess to realize the enemies’ projectiles would yield more devastation than their own.

He needn’t have worried though, as formations of Cornerian starfighters flew forth from the hangar bays of their battleships to engage the enemy. The Octovarians’ strategy was ruthless, but also too arrogant – they hadn’t thought to let loose their own close-range fighters until his own were already swarming over their fleet like gnats. At this point, it was too late: already one of the enemy ship’s front-facing cannons was cut from the rest of its hull by the quick and focused work of his fighter squadrons, debilitating its greatest capacity to deal damage.

A rare ghost of a smile formed on his lips as he let himself savor his success – the enemy had set a trap, and he’d forged through regardless.

His relative happiness was short-lived as the vixen started speaking urgently. “ _Sir!_ Bloodhound Unit…”

She didn’t have to finish her statement as he witnessed Bloodhount Unit’s capital cruiser disappear on the radar. Apparently, his fellow admiral hadn’t had the foresight to scramble his own fighters, and the enemy’s plasma cannons melted half his ship away.

Ravina stroked his chin. He was making solid work of the portion of the Octovarian fleet which had engaged him… but now the _other_ half was headed in his direction, Bloodhound Unit left scattered and defeated in their wake. He froze as he realized he had no way out of this one. It didn’t matter how well they flew when they were outnumbered two-to-one. He was about to order a retreat to the planet to regroup with Dingo Unit when _another_ warp gate signature appeared – this one well behind their lines.

A swift moment of horror rose and subsequently passed as he realized the reinforcements weren’t there to bolster their enemy, but rather _them_. A group of Cornerian cruisers had arrived, with a very welcome and familiar battleship among them.

“ _This is Fox McCloud_ ”, a transmission from the Great Fox rang out. “ _Looks like you guys could use some help_.”

Ravina grinned again, getting some surreptitiously surprised looks from his crew. “I agree”, he responded genteelly.

This was one of the things he’d learned about fighting for so many years: the tide could always be turned.

……….

Fox sprinted down the length of the hallway towards the hangar, warning lights strobing along the corners and alarm bells ringing in his ears. He tried not to get too excited at the prospect of jumping into the cockpit of his Arwing and flying into the fray, but it was a losing battle. He was made for this, and it’d been too long since he’d last fully engaged his _raison d'être_ and led a fearless, no-holds-barred charge into an enemy. He would gladly stake his life for Lylat on any mission Peppy asked of him – but he knew his talents were wasted on small-scale skirmishes and security ops. His father might have been a renowned mercenary with a talent for that sort of thing, but Fox wasn’t James McCloud. He didn’t have an aptitude for reconnaissance and subterfuge. He was built for battle.

His teammates kept pace alongside him, and he wondered what each of them was carrying into the coming conflict. Was Falco really as much of a money-minded playboy as he projected, doing this all for the paycheck? Did Krystal actually enjoy her work, or was it just a job she performed to protect her friends?

Was Slippy really up for this, right now?

Fox didn’t want to think about what it meant that he did enjoy his work, so he put the thought aside, back into the box he always stored it in and promised to open at some point.

Tomorrow. There was always a tomorrow.

The four of them almost collided into Wolf and his team as the trio casually ambled around the corner. “Jesus, Fox. Where’s the fucking fire?”, the lupine loudly complained as they ran past.

“Shredding our fleet to bits if we don’t put it out”, Fox shot back as he continued to jog towards the hangar. He saw Wolf roll his eyes in his peripheral vision and grinned a little manically at the gesture. Wolf and his team were going to have to get used to house rules on mission readiness if they wanted to keep up.

They arrived at the hangar and broke off to their individual Arwings. Fox climbed and leapt into his own, beginning the activation sequence through pure muscle memory. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as the starfighter’s engines primed and its cockpit vacuum-sealed. His Arwing started to lift and turn in place as he saw Wolf, Panther and Fay enter the hangar bay. He shot Wolf a half-mocking salute as the larger canine climbed into his new Wolfen – he responded with a middle finger.

Fox laughed to himself, but swiftly assumed the demeanor of a captain as the hangar doors began to open. “Star Fox”, he opened a wide comm with his team. “Report in.”

“ _I’m ready_ ”, Krystal responded evenly.

“ _Prepped and ready to go_ ”, Slippy said.

“ _Why do you even gotta do this?_ ”, Falco whined. “ _You already know we’re ready_.”

“Just gotta make sure, Falco. Don’t want your tailfeathers getting burned off by your own engine.” Fox cut off Falco’s crude response midway, taking rein of his Arwing and angling it towards the inky expanse of space visible outside the hangar. A momentary glimpse of Venom looming in the distance fouled his humor somewhat.

“ _I’m not going to do a countdown thing_ ”, Wolf grumbled as his Wolfen prepped and primed. “ _Let’s just get this over with._ ”

“ _Agreed_ ”, Panther said darkly.

“ _Aye-aye, cap’n!_ ”, Fay shouted much too loudly, neutralizing all of Panther’s grimness.

One last burst of initial G-diffused energy shot from his Arwing’s engine, and he knew it was time. “Let’s rock and roll, people.” He punched the thruster and flew out of the hangar, pilot’s intent and vehicle’s motions synthesized to the point it didn’t even feel like he was controlling a piece of machinery anymore. He let himself be sublimated into the starfighter and shot towards the fray like a rocket.

There were supposed to be two contingents of Cornerian battleships engaged with the enemy, but one of them had lost their flagship and wound up scattered and broken out of formation. He opened a comm channel with the Capital Cruiser hanging behind them, sitting smack dab in the center of a large contingent of battleships that’d arrived alongside the Great Fox. “Peppy. I think Ravina’s mostly got his side under control. Intercept the other enemy force?”

“ _Sounds like a plan_ ”, the old hare answered. Fox knew Peppy’d be keeping his own flagship far from the front for security reasons, and he also knew how much this would bother him. The lagomorph would be living somewhat vicariously through his own fleet. “ _I’m sending the bulk of my forces that way. Keep the enemy off of Ravina’s flank as long as you can_.”

“You got it”, Fox agreed, ending the commline and angling his Arwing towards the oncoming formation of Octovarian ships slowly making their way towards Shepherd Unit. “Alright, team. We’ve got orders to keep the enemy busy until the big guns get here.”

“ _I don’t_ ”, Wolf grunted. “ _The faster the admiral cleans up his side, the faster he engages the other group – and the faster we wrap this shit up_.” He broke his Wolfen off from their formation. “ _Star Wolf: on me_.”

The trio of crimson-lined starfighters split away and rocketed towards the other portion of the fleet. Fox let out a vexed smile – of course Wolf would immediately leave to do his own thing. The lupine’s logic was sound, and it was a genuinely good idea, but Fox knew damn well the real reason he did it was just to live up to his contrarian reputation.

That drive to do whatever he willed was a large part of what drew him to the larger canine in the first place though, so he couldn’t begrudge Wolf for following his own nature.

“ _The admiral said their cannons are a weak spot_ ”, Krystal brought his mind back on-target. “ _We should concentrate our fire there._ ”

“ _Just give me something to shoot and I’m happy_ ”, Falco said as his Arwing shot ahead of the rest of them, sweeping in a wide arc that started to draw fire from the enemy turrets. All of their shots fell short as Falco changed his acceleration in unpredictable ways, setting himself on one parabola and then wildly veering off into another. It seemed haphazard, but Fox knew it was a carefully practiced dance – he’d never known a pilot to frustrate and distract an enemy quite like Falco.

Fox flew head-on towards one of the battleships in a slow-motion pirouette, bright green lasers flickering from the twin cannons on his Arwing and peppering the large starhip’s shields to minimal effect. He suddenly dove down as several turrets embedded in its side trained their cannons on him and began raining down bolts of their own, building up speed until just the right moment – when he suddenly pulled back up in a reverse-dive and refocused his aim on the narrowest portion of its front-facing cannon. He lined his shot up right until he was certain it was perfect before pressing the conspicuous crimson button on the side of his joystick and subsequently darting away at top speed – he’d been caught in the radius of one of his own smartbombs before, and once was enough. He only saw the explosion reflected in the hull of the enemy ship and in the glass casing of his cockpit, but he knew his aim had been true.

“ _That’s one down!_ ”, Slippy said excitedly over the comms.

“ _Yeah – only eight more to go_ ”, Falco cut in sarcastically.

“ _We won’t have to disable all of them_ ”, Krystal supplied. “ _Just keep them tied up till the fleet gets here._ ”

“Which won’t be much longer…”, Fox added as he noticed the Cornerian starships were already halfway to their position on radar. “Let’s focus on taking them out one-at-a-time for now, the more we–” He was interrupted by bolts of low-grade laserfire striking his Arwing, causing him to roll away on pure instinct. “Dammit. They’ve scrambled fighters.”

“ _I see ‘em_ ”, Falco drawled. “ _About time the cavalry arrived_.” His Arwing swooped down on an unsuspecting enemy fighter like one of his prehistoric ancestors, striking close enough to draw blood before letting loose a barrage of fire directly into its cockpit and blowing it up. “ _What was that about ‘taking them out one-at-a-time’ again?_ ”

Fox shook his head. “Belay that order. Star Fox: fire at will.”

“ _That’s more like it_ ”, Falco said as he peeled off again to stalk his own prey. Fox kept a tighter formation with his other two teammates, weaving in and out and within the loose net of enemy starfighters that was now swarming the battlefield, all the while Falco flew around them in lazy circles, picking off the enemies they couldn’t.

A searingly-bright orange light ahead of him caused Fox to momentarily panic. “Evasive actions!”, he shouted as he barrel-rolled in an unwieldy, diagonal arc, barely dodging the absolutely massive lob of superheated plasma that flew by close enough to make him feel the heat from within his Arwing.

“Everyone, report”, he asked urgently as he righted himself, trying to figure out everyone’s positions after being scattered like that.

“ _I’m fine_ ”, Krystal said a little shakily

“ _Did they seriously aim one of their big guns at us!?_ ”, Falco asked exasperatedly.

“ _I’ve got an enemy on my tail!_ ”, Slippy yelped.

Fox sighed and spun his way towards Slippy, managing to take out one of the enemy fighters on his way. He got there just in time to watch Slippy aggressively perform a spinning flip with his Arwing and destroy the starfighter that he couldn’t shake.

“ _Never mind – I’m good_ ”, the amphibian added, sounding relieved.

The vulpine just hovered there for a few seconds, stunned at the display.

“ _Earth to Fox!_ ”, Falco yelled, sounds of laser fire narrowly missing him audible over comms. “ _The giant cannon that’s still aiming at us!?_ ”

Fox’s ears perked up. “Right. The cannon.” He twisted his Arwing around and redoubled his efforts to reach the enemy battleship, diving past enemy fighters, slipping through their formations, and shooting them when the opportunity arose. He primed his second, remaining smartbomb while only loosely aiming at the enemy ship, hoping his intuition would cover for his lack of precision as he let it go. “Bombs away”, he warned his team before flipping and flying the other direction. Once more the bright explosion shone reflected and refracted on the glass of his cockpit.

“ _Nice shot_ ”, Krystal said, confirming that he’d managed to hit it. He turned to the side to see the results of his handiwork: another cannon severed down the middle, its edges glowing crimson and cauterized by the heat of the explosive.

The trademark shimmering lance of a Cornerian laser battery arced through the vacuum and struck the denuded battleship, followed by several more. Fox veered his Arwing out of the line of fire, grinning at the group of silver cruisers as they blindsided the enemy ships and let loose havoc upon their hulls. Peppy’s backup was here, but they’d need plenty of help.

“Good work, team”, he commended them. “Let’s finish the job.”

……….

“ _We’re slamming the bastards, but they keep coming!_ ”

Peppy surveyed the three-dimensional holo-display of the battlefield from his seat, paws steepled, brow taught. Captain Grey’s status update validated the truth of the situation wrought in lines of cyan light in front of him: the Octovarian forces were better-outfitted than they had any right to be, and were clearly talented fighters to boot. That latter part didn’t come as a surprise, since Octovarian mercenary forces were some of the most battle-hardened in known space due to the violent nature of their system – but that was the thing, wasn’t it? Mercenary _forces_ , in plural.

The disparate warrior bands of Octovar were always a nebulous threat to Lylat in the sense that they could hypothetically be dangerous, but they were fractious by nature. There was no central government in Octovar. The status quo of the system was a flux of interstellar ronin warlords: warrior clans who climbed to the top only to be thrown off the mountain, just to climb to the top all over again. They had different subcultures, different ships, different weapons, different livery, different tactics – this unified front of top-of-the-line battle cruisers of similar make and model they were facing now upended everything they knew about how politics in Octovar worked. Clearly, they hadn’t been paying enough attention to their cosmic neighbors.

Peppy resolved to correct that deadly mistake – later, when they weren’t in the midst of trying to make it _less_ deadly.

“Bring your squadron back around to the line again”, he ordered Grey. They needed to break the enemy front before this turned into a war of attrition, and they weren’t going to do it by hanging back and letting the smaller corvettes and starfighters handle it.

“ _Sir?_ ”, Grey asked, obviously understanding Peppy’s intent, but doubting whether it was a good idea to risk that much. What the captain didn’t know is that they risked even more by not committing now. The sooner this was over, the sooner they could recollect themselves and prevent further incursions – and _nothing_ was going to end this sooner than Peppy’s own dreadnought entering the fray.

“Don’t worry, Bill”, Peppy said with what he hoped was a warm, disarming tone. He dropped that mien and resumed the role of a seasoned commander. “Helmsman: bring us forward and make for Ravina’s contingent. We’re going to break their line.”

“Yes, sir”, the reptile responded without question. Peppy idly wondered if his willingness to follow orders was born of respect for his strategy, or rote military traditionalism. He hoped it was more of the former than the latter. He let that distraction keep his mind at ease as the flagship ran over and through the swarms of enemy starfighters, batting them away like motes of dust.

“Fire at will”, he commanded easily, trusting his crew to decide when and how to launch barrages of laser-fire and missiles at the enemy’s starships as they encroached on them. A chaotic blitz of destruction flew from the cannons of the capital ship, drawing the attention of several of the enemy battleships. _Good_ , Peppy thought as the enemy ships turned to face them. _Let them try_.

Misshapen orange lobs of plasma catapulted across the distance between the enemy ships and their own, scattering on their shields to minimal effect. Peppy let out a quiet sigh of relief. The shields on his own dreadnought were quite a bit stronger than that of the other Cornerian battleships, and he’d made an educated guess they’d better withstand the enemy’s plasma cannons, but he hadn’t been a hundred percent certain until he saw the superheated, glorified cannonballs of energy dissipate across the bow with his own eyes.

Fortified by the sight, he issued another command. “Increase speed. Draw the enemy’s eyes on us.” He opened a channel with the other, smaller capital cruiser in his vicinity. “Admiral Ravina, I have the enemy’s attention – now is the time to strike.”

“ _Understood, General_ ”, he replied evenly. Peppy knew Ravina well enough to know the fossa knew exactly what to do. With the enemy’s cannons turning to face his dreadnought, it’d be the best time for the other Cornerian starships and one-man fighters to tear those cannons right off.

“Grey, focus on the cannons. Our corvettes and cruisers have you covered.”

“ _You got it, boss man!_ ”, the canine answered excitedly. A small smile played across Peppy’s face at his enthusiasm. After they handled this enemy contingent, they’d be able to double back to focus on the other. They’d lost a sizable chunk of people, Peppy knew – but all in all, this could’ve been much worse.

Perhaps it was that thought that jinxed it, he wondered, as a new warp signature emerged behind the enemy lines. An unmistakable capital ship emerged, and it looked _nothing_ like the rest of the Octovarian fleet. It was a dark, heavily greebled mass, taller than it was long, thorny where the rest of the Octovarian ships were bulbous: a concave, inverted crescent with needle-sharp antennae emerging haphazardly from every surface.

Its core started to glow an iridescent color that wavered from bright teal to violet, and a familiar, pit-like feeling of absolute danger settled in Peppy’s core. “All ships: pull back”, he ordered quietly. The glow increased in strength, and Peppy knew the best-case scenario was that it focused on his own ship for long enough to allow the rest of their forces to escape.

“ _Negative, General_ ”, Ravina’s even voice echoed. Peppy’s battlefield display showed a swarm of escape pods bursting from the Admiral’s cruiser like spores. “ _Your death would be disastrous for Lylat_.” As the ferocity of the glow peaked, Ravina’s capital ship floated between the enemy and Peppy’s own.

Peppy’s paw twitched. He knew what was happening, that it was the best tactical decision, and there was nothing that he could do about it. It felt like he was speared right through the middle regardless.

“You’re a good man, Lorn”, he said solemnly.

“You as well, Peppy.”

The unworldly glow grew a brilliant white for a split-second, and then let loose. A solid, unbroken jet of painfully bright green energy was unleashed from the enemy capital ship, and it held for several seconds on Ravina’s cruiser, superheating it from the inside and cracking it like an egg – the explosion was possibly the brightest Peppy had ever seen, a violet-teal fractal flower that continued to froth and bubble for a few seconds, jets of molten metal and streams of G-diffusion forces scattered across the screaming void in every conceivable direction.

But Peppy looked past that blooming flower of destruction, eyes drawn towards it cause. The enemy flagship lurked behind the rest of the line, laying dormant, almost certainly recharging its main cannon.

Peppy knew without a doubt: they had to destroy that ship.

……….

Wolf tried to close his eyes to no avail.

That was the thing about having a cybernetic implant: you couldn’t spare yourself from certain sights. Even as he kept his biological eye shut tight, the continuing explosion of the (presumably now late) admiral’s ship played out as an incomprehensible show of infrared and ultraviolet in the other. He slowly winked his good eye open just to reestablish a visual – the explosion was such a mess of energy flying in every direction that it’d take a few seconds more for his implant to readjust, and he didn’t have that time.

“Update”, he huffed out over the comms.

“ _Peachy_ ”, Panther snipped.

“ _That is a big,_ big _ship!_ ” Fay’s voice wasn’t quite trembling, but it wasn’t stable either.

Wolf was just happy they were all alive, relatively close to the obliterated capital cruiser as they had been. He knew their old Wolfens wouldn’t have made it through something like that – just another thing he had to thank the monkey for, now.

The immense newcomer to the battlefield lingered beyond the rest of the enemy armada, and Wolf felt his stomach flip a little at the sight of it. Fay was right: it _was_ a big ship. Something about it pricked at the back of Wolf’s mind, triggering a vague sense of familiarity; which made no sense, since he definitely would’ve remembered seeing a ship as massive and strange-looking as this one.

He ignored the mild déjà vu and pinged Fox as he drew his Wolfen into a wider arc around the battlefield, now resuming in ferocity after the momentary stunned silence of the destructive display.

“ _Wolf!_ ”, Fox responded, his voice like a parent calling for a child carried away by a riptide. “ _Thank God. When we saw that explosion_ –”

“Save your worried lover routine for later and get your ass over here. Enemy flagship just arrived – that’s _why_ you saw an explosion.” A slight but noticeable glow started to emanate from that dark mass lingering in the distance again. “And unless we do something fast, there’s going to be another one.”

“ _Dammit_ ”, the vulpine cursed under his breath. “ _If we fly over there, we might lose this side of the battle_.”

Wolf sighed forcefully through his nose. “And I’m telling you: if you don’t fly over _here_ , we’re going to lose _every_ side of this battle.” He gritted his teeth as he waited for a response.

“ _Goddammit._ Fine. _We’re on our way. Try to survive_.”

“I always do.” He ended the commline and spun into a dive, taking out another enemy fighter on the way. “Alright, Star Wolf. Ready to get a little reckless?”

“ _Always!_ ”, Fay responded instantly, spinning into a position at his left flank.

A deep sigh came across the line before Panther fell in at his right. “ _No, but do we ever have a choice?_ ”

“Not even a little bit.” Wolf gunned the throttle and flew straight forward, heading for the enemy flagship. He honestly had no idea what he was doing – taking out giant ships was Fox’s specialty, not his. But if the vulpine could do it, why couldn’t he?

Wolf grinned a little maniacally at the thought of outdoing Fox as he flew into the maw.

……….

Fox flew through the wreckage of the enemy fighter without a second glance. He’d long become inured to the sight of the twisted, molten metal he left behind him, focusing instead on whatever goal he was trying to achieve.

Which in this instance was keeping his closest confidantes alive.

“ _Approaching enemy flagship!_ ”, Slippy loudly stated the obvious.

“ _Daaaamn_ ”, Falco drawled. “ _That ship is ug_ -ly.”

Krystal pulled her Arwing alongside Fox’s. “ _I’m reading Star Wolf’s signatures, but they’re not responding – they’re probably too involved._ ”

Fox narrowed his eyes as he took in the sight. The enemy flagship was a looming, nightmarish morass of vaguely iridescent spikes, lazily hanging behind the loose net of smaller frigates still firing off their plasma cannons. Ungainly as the capital ship was, he couldn’t even tell where its command deck was located. He watched as a few stray lasers lanced across the battlefield from behind them and into the shields of the thorny mass to minimal effect.

He chewed his lip – if high-band Cornerian starship-fire couldn’t pierce the flagship’s hide, what could _they_ do about it? He tried to focus. There had to be a way. There was _always_ a way.

He rolled his Arwing out of the path of incoming turretfire from the massive ship and swiftly re-angled himself for a straight shot towards its hull. “Alright, team – let’s see what we can do.”

A chorus of agreement rang out, and he rocketed forward, spinning in and out of the line of fire. Krystal was right: he could make out Wolf’s signature on his radar, weaving and bobbing closer to the capital ship’s surface. His silence could only mean one thing: that he was fighting for his life. Fox tried not to let that thought puncture his focus. He kept a commline open, trusting Wolf to check in when he was able to.

“ _Fighters incoming_ ”, Falco said tersely.

“I see them”, Fox acknowledged, taking a few potshots here and there as he continued to fly towards the flagship. He’d figure out what to do once he got there.

Hopefully.

He turned his Arwing ninety degrees as he made the final approach, allowing is narrow profile to pass between the tangled forest of spires jutting from the capital ship’s surface. They were even eerier up close, some with a slight curvature to them, like dark alloy whiskers. His cursory guess was that they must have served some sensory purpose, but he didn’t think trying to destroy them was a good use of time.

“ _Fox…_ ”, Krystal sounded worried.

“Give me a few”, he responded, assuming her fear was rooted in his lack of a plan. He needed to _think_ , but it was hard when so much of his mental processing power was dedicated to dodging bursts of laserfire while flying through what was effectively a labyrinth of thorns. It didn’t even feel like he was flying through space anymore – it looked like his Arwing was bounding through a thick canopy of jet-dark steel punctuated by occasional arcs of deadly fire.

He shuddered with nervous tension as he tried to figure out a plan to at least weaken the capital ship, if not incapacitate it. If he could just get a second to _think_.

“ _Fox!_ ”, Wolf’s voice rang out loudly, shaking him from his focus. “ _The cannon!_ ”

Fox was torn between relief at hearing Wolf’s voice and worry at how tense it sounded. “Wolf – what do you mean?”

“ _The cannon!_ ”, he yelled again. “ _The cannon, you dipshit!_ _Blow it up!_ ”

Fox’s ears perked up even as Slippy’s voice filled his ears. “ _I’m detecting an energy surge coming from the flagship’s core!_ ”

“On me!”, Fox yelled excitedly, pulling his Arwing into an about-face turn and heading towards the massive ship’s relative center, skating around more spires on the way. As he flew past Wolf and his team, they converged on his Arwing.

“ _We’ll cover you_ ”, Panther provided as he blew up a turret that was aiming for Fox.

“Much obliged”, the vulpine replied automatically as he escaped the forest of spires, crested a ridge, and came face-to-face with what had to be the flagship’s cannon. It was a silvery tumor jutting out from the deepest concave aspect of the crescent-shaped hull, noteworthy in its lack of spiked appendages. An aperture at its center was opening slowly, bright green energy laced with flashes of violet accumulating from within. The spiked protrusions beyond the cannon’s circumference started to take on a shimmer themselves: thin waves of foggy energy coalescing from across the surface and rippling towards the center.

“That _doesn’t look good_ ”, Falco supplied.

“ _Fox, take the shot!_ ”, Slippy yelled as the cannon’s aperture grew larger, revealing concentric rings pulsing with energy within.

Fox lined up his Arwing with the growing opening: a smartbomb aimed _just right_ could trash the entire cannon from the inside, and they all knew it.

He was about to let loose when he suddenly realized something.

“…Uh oh.”

“ _I don’t like the sound of that, pup_ ”, Wolf gritted after a second’s pause.

“I’m out of bombs”, he stated matter-of-factly, ignoring Krystal’s intake of breath. “Laserfire isn’t going to cut it.”

“ _Oh for_ fuck’s _sake_ ”, the lupine borderline whined.

Fox eyed the aperture, noticing how it started to glow brighter. He could make out Peppy’s ship on his radar in the distance, directly in the line of fire of the enemy’s cannon.

“ _Shit, shit,_ shit!”, Falco cursed as enemy fighters encroached. “ _I’m getting hammered over here, I can’t make the shot!_ ”

Krystal and Slippy were talking, but he tuned out their frantic comms chatter, trying to center himself. He took a deep breath and considered his options.

Peppy was vital to Corneria’s survival – none of the other generals and admirals could come close to his leadership, and he didn’t think Lylat could handle losing both its civilian _and_ military leadership in a single 24-hour period. He was out of bombs, and he wasn’t sure if his teammates were capable of making the shot.

There was a very obvious solution to this dilemma. His Arwing was even perfectly lined-up already. He struggled with whether or not he should say something as his paw twitched on his thruster. They’d try to talk him out of it – he _knew_ they would – and he didn’t think they had the time to argue, not judging by the way the cannon glowed.

He vaguely heard Krystal say his name, voice quavering. She had to have known what he was thinking, what he was considering. He licked his lips anxiously as he opened a broad comms channel, but his paw still hovered over the thruster. He needed to push it. He _had_ to push it.

But he hesitated – and a crimson blur streaked past him.

“ _DON’T JUST STAND THERE!_ ”, Wolf bellowed. “ _COVER ME!_ ”

Fox startled out of his trance, automatically following Wolf’s order and gunning down the fighters who’d been on the lupine’s tail as his Wolfen arced towards the cannon. He only barely noticed as Wolf fired a smartbomb directly into the cannon’s aperture, mind still adrift.

“ _EVERYONE GET THE_ FUCK _OUT OF HERE_ ”, Wolf yelled again as he pulled away, deposit made. As Fox pulled his Arwing around to follow Wolf out, he noticed the green glow and coalescing mist of energy around the cannon had dissipated, replaced by a burning orange, the cannon’s surface starting to ripple and liquify like molten magma.

The sight only further brought his mind back to earth and spurned on his speed as he made pace with Wolf. A quick glance at his radar showed they’d all made it out, and he let the exhilaration of the escape take over him and wash away the remnants of what came before. The energy of the charging cannon started to backfire into the ship itself, and he knew a big chunk of that energy would explode outward. 

Death was at his heels, and it felt like he never flew faster. It was the same terrifying, awful, exuberant rush of escaping Venom, of escaping the Aparoid homeworld.

It was the rush of being _alive_.

A telltale bright flash blossomed from behind him, but they were all well far away at that point. He couldn’t have kept the grin off his face as he tried. “Good job, people!”

Fay whooped, and he clearly heard Krystal sigh in relief. Slippy, Falco and Panther started adding to the chatter – but Wolf was silent. He was about to start a private comm when he noticed two things:

Firstly, that the enemy flagship was still flying – although at least there was a smoking, smoldering hole where that night terror of a cannon used to be.

And second, that he was receiving an urgent message from Peppy. He patched the lagomorph through without a thought. “What’s up?”

The sounds of his own teammates’ post-battle cheer still rang over the comms as Peppy quietly and somberly told him the news. He closed the line with a frown.

“…I’ve got some bad news”, he finally interrupted their celebratory banter. At their silence, he continued. “The other battle group failed, and the enemy broke through.”

A few seconds of confused silence passed before Wolf finally spoke up. “ _And?_ ”

Fox shook his head automatically, despite no one being able to see. “They flew off and started warping as soon as they got within the bounds of the system. Peppy says they had at least six battleships left, and who knows how many gunships and fighters.” He scratched his ear – a nervous tic. “It’s only a matter of time before they start attacking… well, _everywhere_ , I suppose.”

The dark silhouette of the enemy flagship was illuminated by the still-burning heart at its core. Mortally wounded as it was, it started to retreat from the front, skulking back into the shadows of wild space as stray spears of Cornerian laserfire struck its hull.

“ _So… what now?_ ”, Falco asked.

Fox sighed. “Now, we regroup.” He turned away from the sight of the dark flagship sinking into the night and towards the remnants of the Cornerian forces… and the sallow, green planet beyond.

“And figure out what to do next.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are - the second of half of the Worlds of Lylat begins! My life continues to be busy, and I want to keep a running "buffer" between what's been written and what's been posted, so my plan for this story is one chapter a month. It may not be optimal, but I think it's probably the best way to strike a work-life balance at the moment.
> 
> As always, thank you for kudos and comments!


	2. Chapter 2

# II

Wolf frowned at the display.

The Lylat System was hovering over the conference table, wrought in lines of blue light and spinning slowly on an unseen axis. He ignored Peppy’s spoken summary of the situation – didn’t need it. The red dots peppering the system like an acne flare-up explained it better than words ever could.

“…contingent arrived at Katina, but they’d already scattered”, he caught the old hare saying, voice tinted with aggravation. “They strike, they steal, they leave – then they do it all over again somewhere else. And I’ll be damned if they’re not _trying_ to cause as much collateral as possible, each and every time.”

The lupine just kept staring at the holo-map as he leaned against the wall, arms folded, wondering just how many people died today. It’d only been two hours since the Octovarians broke through, so there was some solace to be had in the fact Corneria would get their shit together. Eventually.

But not soon enough to save that little red dot there, he thought. Or the one next to it, or the one next to _that_. And how could they? The Navy was a _Navy_ , not a police force. It wasn’t their job to stage a 24/7 military-grade defense of every random-ass rock in the system – that wasn’t _anyone’s_ job.

“Surely they can be reasoned with”, Krystal chimed in. “Not the zealots, mind – but the mercenaries. For every one of them engaged in Baloz’s crusade, there have to be at least three more in it for the pay. Has anyone considered negotiation?”

Wolf thought that was dangerously naïve, but held his tongue – Peppy voiced his own thoughts for him. “You realize you’re talking about negotiating with people who’ve killed civilians, right? Families?” The hare didn’t look judgmental, but there was steel in his eyes.

Krystal met it unfazed. “I’m certainly not putting this out there as a _desirable_ solution, but think of the alternative”, she stated calmly. “If most of the Octovarians are in this for the spoils, then appealing to their greed could work to our benefit. Paying off invaders may wound our pride – but I’d rather our dignity suffer than our children.”

Peppy continued to lock his gaze on hers for a second, then broke it with a sigh. “I don’t disagree with your logic, but I also don’t think that’s a realistic solution.” He looked at the holo-map like it was a crystal ball – Wolf wondered what he saw in it, besides death. “Questions of viability aside, you’d have to sell a majority of the House on that idea.” He looked back at Krystal. “I feel pretty darn safe in saying that’s not going to happen.”

The vixen nodded acquiescence, and Fox piped up. “We need to fight them back”, he said, and Wolf marveled at how confident his demeanor was – marveled, and disbelieved. “They might be fast, and they caught us by surprise, but we’re getting wise to their tricks. Look.” He started pointing out individual parts of the map where more of the red dots were concentrated. “It’s just like you said: they’re hitting us one place, catching us with our pants down, then warping away, right? But look at how many attacks there’ve been and compare that to how many of their ships actually got past us.” Fox turned away from the map and towards Peppy. “It’s too many. They’ve stretched themselves dangerously thin to get this much coverage – I’m sure of it”, the vulpine said. “If we break the Navy up into smaller units, and station them at every planet–”

“Then that gargantuan nightmare will roll into Lylat without a fight”, Wolf interjected. “They’re trying to get you to spread yourselves nice and wide for the real fucking.”

The small assembly grew silent at his vulgar pronouncement, staring at him – and he knew the looks weren’t caused by his questionable choice of words. Fox in particular looked taken down a peg, something Wolf felt a jab of guilt over.

It was Peppy’s reaction that really caught his notice, though. The hare looked completely unsurprised, confirming the lupine’s suspicion that the good general had already considered Fox’s strategy before coming to the same conclusion as Wolf.

“We need to proceed cautiously”, the lagomorph supplied – and Wolf thought those words would be trite coming from anyone else. “Fox, I think there’s a lot of merit to your idea, and we’re already in the process of integrating a few concepts along those lines in our response – but Wolf is right. We can’t afford to spread ourselves as thin as our enemy to fight them, not with that superweapon in play.” The hare allowed himself a small smile. “Which I thank all of you here for disabling, by the way.”

Wolf nodded, and his own and Fox’s teammates responded graciously – but Fox’s brow furrowed. “…We didn’t destroy it, though.”

Falco scoffed. “Come off it, Fox. You really gonna blame yourself for not blowing up something like that? Doing as much damage as we did’s a fuckin’ miracle.”

“Birdie’s right”, Panther purred, ignoring the avian’s indignant response at being called such. “In truth, I’m equally as surprised we’re even _alive_ as we are that we damaged it.”

Wolf rolled his eyes as Falco tried to pick a fight with the feline – he sought eye contact with Fox to share their mutual exasperation with their teammates, only to find the vulpine staring down at his own paws instead.

Peppy cleared his throat, bringing the attention of the two mercenary teams back onto him. “Now that we’ve got all that out of the way, I have mission for all of you – if you’re interested.” He looked each of them in the eyes, one-by-one. “You’re all freelancers, and none of you are under any obligation to keep fighting for Lylat – but I hope you will.”

A chorus of assurances started to ring out before Peppy rose a paw and tampered it down. “I bring that up _specifically_ because of the nature of this mission. It… might not be what you’re expecting, given the circumstances”, he said carefully. “…It might also be a bit… _difficult_ , in certain ways.” Wolf didn’t miss the way the hare looked at him and Fox specifically. “But I’ll let the man speak for himself.”

Before anyone could ask what he meant, he remote-opened the door, and Dash Bowman walked into the room.

Wolf was hardly surprised – he could see exactly where this was going.

He could also see that he wasn’t going to like it.

“I’m sorry I have to see all of you again so soon”, the simian said with a self-deprecating edge. “But I’m afraid the situation on Venom has grown dire. Well”, he caught himself, projected sartorial image lapsing a little. “ _More_ dire, anyway.”

“How so?”, Krystal asked.

Dash glanced at Peppy, and the hare supplied the unspoken permission he was apparently looking for. After a quick series of flicks, the floating holo-map switched to a zoomed-in view of Venom.

“I’ve already discussed the situation on the planet with Fox and Peppy, and I’m sure they’ve filled you in to some extent – but the short version is that we’ve been struggling with two separate insurrections for some time now: one comprised of former Andross-supporters, and the other trying to restore the Anglar monarchy.” He paused. “Or at least we _believed_ they were separate insurrections. We’re pretty sure they’re collaborating with each other behind the scenes, if only because they share a similar goal of destabilizing Venom.”

The holo-image changed to show certain regions of the planet highlighted in different colors for the different factions. Wolf was annoyed with how easily he recalled and recognized so many of the provinces, having spent so much of his life living in them.

“They’ve both been receiving support, materiel and intel from an outside source – and for a long time, I thought it was Corneria pulling the strings.” He smiled wanly. “I’m happy I was wrong about that, at least.”

“But not so happy about the brewing civil war, I take it?” Fox’s eyes met Dash’s with what felt like a secret joke passing between them.

“No”, the ape laughed lightly.

“Care to tell us why we should care?”, Wolf cut their banter short with more venom than he’d intended, drawing a raised brow from Peppy. “I mean I’m sorry about your planet and all – shit’s rough”, he tried to course-correct, fully aware he was only making it worse, “but the _entire Lylat System’s been invaded_.” He let his arms fall to his sides in what he hoped seemed like a sympathetic gesture. “Venom’s a nightmare and its problems never end – trust me, I know. I wouldn’t wish your job on anyone… But that’s the thing.” He tried to bite his tongue but couldn’t. “It’s _your_ job. Not ours.”

A tense silence overtook the room for a moment. Fox looked at him disapprovingly, almost offended. Krystal and Slippy exchanged a worried glance. Panther and Fay maintained silent neutrality. Peppy looked pissed. Falco, perhaps surprisingly, nodded his agreement.

But he ignored all of them – it was Dash’s expression that mattered here. At first he looked indignant; but then something shifted, almost imperceptibly. The simian’s eyes dropped for a few seconds. 

“…You’re right”, he finally said. “I can see your faces”, he directed at Fox and Peppy. “There’s no need to defend me, because he’s right. It _is_ my job. And I couldn’t do it.” He locked his eyes on Wolf’s, and they were beseeching. “That’s why I need help.”

_Damn it all_ , the lupine thought. He hated it when people looked at him like that.

“We need Venom securely under Lylat’s authority”, Peppy stated, in part to try and bring the discussion back to the matter at hand. “The enemy needs to get inside Lylat’s space to access our warp-lanes, and Venomian space forms the bulk of our border. It’s why they’re supporting the insurgent groups to take the planet by proxy – they need a wedge.” He sighed forcefully through his nose. “…If we don’t plug the hole here, the wave of enemy ships we’re fighting off now will only be the first.”

“And Corneria can’t be the ones to do the plugging… _why_ , exactly?”, Panther asked. “I’m flattered you consider us up for the task, but surely something of this import and magnitude is better left to the Navy proper?”

“Yeah”, Falco added. “Why _are_ we being asked to do this, Peppy? I mean, I can’t be the only one who notices there aren’t any actual military guys here besides you… right?”

Wolf _almost_ grinned at the surreal sight of Falco actually agreeing with Panther, but held himself in check – he’d already stirred too much shit in one meeting.

Dash and Peppy exchanged a look, and the ape spoke up. “Opinions about Corneria… _vary_ … on Venom. It’s part of how the insurgents got as powerful as they have. The less the Cornerian Navy is involved…”

“The better for regaining control of the situation”, Fox finished for him. “We understand.”

“Then you understand why this is such an important mission?”, Peppy asked. “I wouldn’t ask all of you to do this, you know – not unless it was absolutely necessary.” He paused, before continuing in a quieter tone. “I’ll give you a little time to make up your minds, but time is a commodity we don’t have much of anymore, so think as quick as you can.”

Wolf kept his expression neutral as he analyzed the room. The lagomorph’s words seemed to be directed at all of them, but Wolf knew they were really meant strictly for him and Fox. It wouldn’t be the _first_ time either of them returned to Venom since the Lylat War, but that didn’t make it any easier.

It was all a show though; Peppy had to have known Fox would assent. How could he not, when so much was on the line? And if _Fox_ gave the okay, there was no way in hell Wolf wouldn’t.

He already knew Panther and Fay were on board from their expressions, so he sought Fox’s gaze – and when he had it, he gave a small shrug. Correctly interpreting the sign, Fox looked at the rest of his team before finally setting his eyes on Peppy.

“…We’ll do it”, Fox said; and Wolf bit his tongue as he did, hard enough to draw blood. He knew it was coming, but it didn’t make the words coming from the vulpine’s mouth any easier to hear.

Venom awaited.

……….

“Can I get you anything else?”, the fuchsia toad asked eagerly. “Another cup of coffee, maybe?”

Krystal smiled politely at Amanda’s question, but shook her head. “No, but thank you for the offer.” Slippy’s fiancé – no, _wife_ , she reminded herself – had spent the last twenty minutes flitting between the various mercenaries on board, trying to ply them with various refreshments as they prepared for the descent to the planet’s surface. Krystal knew Amanda’s actions were a combination of trying to make herself useful and a coping mechanism for the stress of the situation, and the anxiety coming off the amphibian’s mind in waves was a little disconcerting, but she was genuine in her thanks all the same. Each of them handled duress differently; if Amanda’s path was to become an overeager hostess, well, there were far worse things.

Like the intermittent, simmering rage radiating from Slippy, sitting by himself in a booth on the other side of the Great Fox’s kitchen. One of Amanda’s cups of coffee sat in his hand, but it was obvious he hadn’t taken a sip yet – and probably never would. Krystal was unused to such negative, actively violent emotion coming from the diminutive toad. His earlier, shattering sadness had given way to a noxious cloud of anger, thick enough to choke on.

Krystal could tell by Amanda’s own emotions that she was aware Slippy was hurting, but also as unused to his current state as Krystal was – and therefore just as unsure how to handle it. _Was_ there a way to handle it? Consoling someone after the death of a loved one was hard enough; but a _murder_? When the sadness was shed and replaced by a thirst for vengeance? Krystal hadn’t experienced that before – and if _she_ hadn’t, then Amanda certainly hadn’t either.

The vixen pretending to busy herself with something on her comm device as Amanda approached Slippy and quietly tried to start a conversation with him, unable to not hear their hushed words, unable to not sense the emotions behind them. _Quiet consolation peppered with_ _worry from Amanda_ , she automatically felt. _Stubborn denial and doubling-down from Slippy_. She just kept scrolling through inanities as they whispered to each other; this wasn’t her conversation to have.

When the automatic door to the galley slid open with a soft hiss, she thought she was spared – only to come face-to-face with an even greater source of worry.

Fox surreptitiously glanced at Slippy and Amanda before looking back at Krystal and ducking his head, as if the two of them were in on a little joke while the married couple worked over their differences. Like he and Krystal were completely fine and normal, and sharing some mutual awkwardness at their feeling like interlopers. Krystal played the part, meeting his uneasy smile with one of her own, but it was all just that: a part. A play.

Krystal knew what she’d sensed from Fox as he stared down the barrel of the enemy’s cannon – what he’d been about to do. And it brought something writhing and thrashing out from her core, rallying against the indignity and _betrayal_ of it all. It wasn’t fair for her to feel that way, she knew; he only would’ve done it because he felt there was no other option, no recourse. But the fact he hadn’t even thought to see if any of _them_ could do it, as if he and only he could be the one. To take all of that on himself, and –

She massaged her temples, feeling a headache coming on. It was _too much_. And there he was, fishing out a small snackbar from a box as they waited for clearance to make landfall on the planet that’d taken so much from him, as if nothing had even happened out there. The unconscious hypocrisy of it all was too much for her, and she got up without a word and left the room, knowing Fox was staring at her with feigned confusion the whole way out. The worst part is that it was feigned to _himself_. As if he didn’t know exactly why she was so upset.

Her feet trod a path for her without input from her mind, taking her where she knew she needed to go – taking her to the person she knew she had to speak with.

She stopped just in time, almost bumping with someone else, apparently going the exact same direction she had been. The dark feline took a step back at the same time she did and the two of them eyed each other for a second. They both knew where they were going, so there was no point beating around the bush.

“I don’t like this”, Panther confided. “He’s holed himself up in his quarters since the briefing.”

Krystal nodded. “Fox is pretending as if nothing’s out of the ordinary.” She thought back to her earlier rumination about coping mechanisms.

Panther ticked up a brow. “Really? After that stunt with the capital ship?”

The vixen didn’t bother to hide her surprise. “You noticed?”

He folded his arms and looked at her – really looked at her – as if he were taking stock of all the possibilities. “…I once considered a similar maneuver myself, in another life. Desperation takes us to desperate places.” His gaze grew less steely. “I don’t think Wolf noticed, though. He’s too much of a survivor. It wouldn’t have even occurred to him.”

“That’s why I’m going to talk to him.”

They stood in silence for a moment, Panther stroking his chin. “Is that… _wise?_ ”, he asked in a tone barely louder than a whisper. “Have you considered how Wolf might react to that information?”

She folded her own arms, not in defiance, but in an attempt at self-assurance. “It doesn’t matter. He has a right to know. He’s the only one who can stop Fox.”

Panther looked at her with an unusual expression, and it took her a second to realize what emotion he was feeling: pity.

“My dear… _No one_ can stop Fox. He’s the most driven individual I’ve ever met, and I’ve spent a large portion of my life flying alongside Lord O’Donnell.” His eyes carried a certain grudging respect. “He’s a whirlwind trapped in a body.”

Krystal weighed his words for a moment before coming to a decision. “…Wolf still needs to know. He _deserves_ to know. You say he can’t stop Fox – but he _did_. He destroyed the cannon.”

Panther nodded slowly. “Point taken. I won’t stop you from doing what you feel you need to do. But a word of caution.” He dropped his voice. “Wolf is in quite a mood at the moment. If you plan on telling him, now might not be the time.”

She sighed, and shook her head. “Panther… we’re about to fight a war. Now might be the _only_ time.”

He dipped his head again. “As I said: this is your decision. I’ve said my piece.”

The feline stalked silently away, leaving his own trajectory in deference to her. She took another breath and continued the path towards Wolf’s room. They only had another few minutes before they were cleared, and she needed to tell him. He needed to know.

She made it all the way to his door when it suddenly opened in front of her before she had a chance to knock, hydraulic hiss making way for the figure of Wolf O’Donnell, fully suited for the coming mission. He paused at seeing her, surprised. He tilted his head off to one side.

“What?”

She lowered the paw she planned to knock on his door with. “I…” Panther’s words continued to swirl in her mind. She waited just long enough for the situation to become awkward before continuing. “I just wanted to… let you know Fox is in the galley. In case you were looking for him.”

The two canines stood staring at each other. It was very obvious Wolf knew that wasn’t what she planned to say, but he nodded all the same. “Thanks”, he bit out. “I’ll… go there. I guess.”

She forced a smile onto her face and let him pass. “Of course.”

“Oh, and Wolf!”, she added as he walked past her, almost down the hall. He paused, but didn’t turn around. “Thank you for destroying the cannon. You saved us.”

He lifted his right paw up and gave a wave as he continued and turned out of sight. Krystal couldn’t say if it was a gesture of ‘you’re welcome’, or ‘it was nothing’, or just simple acknowledgement, or none of the above. She couldn’t say because Wolf wasn’t sure himself.

_Coward_. The word sprung to the forefront of her mind, uncontrolled, directed at herself. She pushed it aside as she headed to her own quarters. She needed to prepare.

They all did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In medias res opening & setup are complete. Now - onto Venom!
> 
> Thanks for kudos and comments as always!


	3. Chapter 3

# III

Venom was an ugly world.

An uncharitable opinion, perhaps – but one Fox couldn’t help but hold. In the interest of fairness, the planet wasn’t _as_ hellish as it had been during the stewardship of Andross, if his sorry excuse for leadership could even be called that. There were pockmarked signs of growth if you knew where to look.

But even so: Venom was _ugly_.

The world’s landmasses were composed of arid stone the color of old rust: a seemingly endless expanse of twisted crag carved into claustrophobic canyon passes. Uneasy memories of flying through those narrow passageways came to Fox’s mind as he looked at them from above, safe in the cockpit of his Arwing – recollections of red rock crowding his view, obscuring his sight. Where the ruddy stone wasn’t dug out into ravines, it was built up into towering stalagmitic spires that looked like they were molded by giant insects.

That thought maybe wasn’t as insane as it first sounded: deep beneath the surface was an immense network of tunnels and caverns that Fox was unfortunately quite familiar with – and he remembered thinking back then that they had looked _burrowed_ rather than drilled by machinery. Who could say with Andross and his penchant for biotechnology? By the end, even the ape himself hadn’t been immune. Fox still thought he’d done his foe a mercy by ending his existence as the… _thing_ he’d become, twisted almost beyond recognition by his own experiments. Fox had barely made it out of that literal underworld, and as shaken as he’d been by what Andross had done to himself (either by intent or accident), it was how he’d _escaped_ that would more often come to him unbidden in dreams. He’d talked at length with Peppy about his experience in the bowels of Venom – what he saw, what he heard – and the old hare managed to convince him that it was a stress hallucination, or possibly even the result of some obscure psychological technology employed by Andross that was destroyed along with his home base.

Fox wholeheartedly agreed with him ninety-nine times out of a hundred. It was that rare outlier that haunted him, though – the one time out of a hundred where he’d entertain the thought, usually late at night, unable to sleep.

_“You’ve become so strong, Fox.”_

He shook himself from his reverie, trying to stay focused as he flew alongside the rest of his team, Star Wolf flying in their own formation a bit off to the side. They’d be coming up on the capital soon, and were maintaining radio silence – partially to ensure no one listened in, and partially because everyone was a little uncomfortable. He sighed through his nose and looked out to his left.

Beyond the crimson deadlands was an ocean that made the seas of Zoness look pristine in comparison. Venom’s great bodies of water were dyed a putrid green by years of exposure to radiation, experimental toxins, and God only knew what else. Where the seas were calm, you could even make out a thin, oily, iridescent film permanently settled on the water’s surface. In fact, the film was the same color of Venom’s clouds – they’d absorbed enough of the ocean’s waters that the rain, too, was toxic, and the buildings of the planet had to be coated in a special sealant just to make sure they weren’t eroded by the acid falling down on them from above.

The fact that the Anglars _lived_ down there remained as shocking to him now as it had when they’d ousted the Emperor. That second foray to Venom brought back its own, less painful and confusing set of memories.

The Anglar Empire had seemingly emerged out of the blue – or green, in this case. Fox remembered the days right after the Blitz started, when the extranet ran rampant with wild speculation about their origins. They were a lost remnant of Andross’ biotechnology that were simply fulfilling their programming – or a local species of wild fish who’d been ‘uplifted’ by Andross for use as an army of shock troops he’d never had the chance to employ. Or _maybe_ the radioactive nature of Venom’s seas had somehow accidentally expedited their evolution, transforming them from beasts into men in the relative blink of an eye. Even Corneria’s news media had picked up on the theories: pundits presenting the possibilities in turn, granting them a certain degree of validity in the process.

The truth was far less fantastical. The Anglars had been there for eons; hidden isolationists keeping to their own. They’d meticulously avoided contact with any of the planet’s settlers until Andross left them no choice by polluting their oceans. In a genetic twist of fate, they were physically unaffected by the afterbirth of the mad scientist’s creations – but they demanded recompense for the spoiling of their waters anyway, mostly in the form of certain biotechnologies. Andross, either uninterested in or unwilling to fight a war on his own planet, granted their request, and even kept quiet about their presence. The two powers occupied their own spheres of Venom in a mostly-silent entente until the very moment Andross died at Fox’s hand.

The relationship with Andross had changed Anglar society – not biologically, or even to that much of a technological extent – but _culturally_. He was the only tether they’d ever had to the world outside their waters, and Corneria had severed it. Most of the Anglars were content to return to the solitary status quo they’d held for millennia, but there were enough in the opposite camp to make a fight out of it – and fight they did. The former Emperor was killed, and another took his place: the auspicious beginning of a new dynasty. The freshly-anointed Anglar Emperor fostered and capitalized on the new philosophy espoused by his followers in the only way tyrants know how: conquest.

Thus began the Anglar Blitz, a conflict doomed to fail from its inception. The sudden invasions of Aquas and Zoness were shocking, both because of their utter brutality and the fact no one in Cornerian society even knowing what an Anglar _was_. But as the surprise melted away, disbelief started to take its place. Fox remembered the meetings with the Cornerian Navy at the time – everyone’s bafflement at how suicidal the Emperor’s strategy was. How was a force as comparatively small as the Anglar Empire ever going to win a fight against every planet in Lylat? The Anglars might have fought like demons, but there was seemingly no route to victory.

The answer ended up being the obvious one: the Emperor was running a ramshackle Empire, his new dynasty inevitably grinding down into nothing under his poor administration. The dream of conquest was the only thing keeping it afloat. Either he watched as his kingdom slowly, inevitably crumbled around him – or he rolled the dice on war, hoping on that one-in-a-million shot at victory.

It didn’t come to pass.

“Coming up on the city”, Krystal supplied, bring Fox back one again to the here and now.

“Acknowledged”, he responded. Now was usually the point where he’d say some words to get everyone mentally prepped for the mission, but they wouldn’t come. He opened his mouth to say something a few times, only to repeatedly close it again. Based on the continued comms silence, it didn’t sound like Wolf was going to say anything to his own team either.

Their fighters crested a rocky ridge, revealing a wide, shallow crater that extended almost to the horizon. A sprawling city of utilitarian-looking buildings the color of patinaed copper coated the basin, and the sight was dominated by an immense ziggurat at the center, visible like a shadow through the haze.

This was Mania – Andross’ capital. And it had _remained_ the capital even after his death.

“This is Fox McCloud”, he opened a channel with the city’s flight control, still feeling guilty over not saying anything to his team. “Requesting permission to land.”

“ _We’ve been expecting you, Star Fox… and Star_ Wolf, _for that matter_ ”, a genteel voice responded. “ _You’re all clear to land at the Heartport._ ”

A bright dot lit up on his Arwing’s HUD, indicating what looked like a government-use spaceport right near the ziggurat complex. “Thank you, control. Over and out.”

They flew over a sizable chunk of the foggy city before slowing down and descending into the hangar: a wide, open-roofed cylindrical building. He let out a shaky breath as his Arwing’s landing gear engaged, knowing there was no turning back.

They’d made formal landfall on Venom. _Again_.

He deactivated the fighter’s systems and hopped out of the cockpit, taking stock of the rest of his teammates. They were all wearing neutral expressions, ones that Fox knew mirrored his own. It wasn’t out of a desire to appear calm though, at least not for him. It was just how he naturally looked when faced with situations like this – his mind stormed and raged while his outward mien remained placid, as if it were struggling to catch up.

“Captains McCloud and O’Donnell?”

The vulpine’s ears swiveled to face the newcomer before he turned his head – it was that lemur, the same one who’d been with Dash at the wedding, and he had an Anglar in tow. “Captain Fandrana”, Fox said with a nod, debating whether or not to extend his paw for a shake.

His hesitation to extend his paw in greeting was noted by Fandrana, whose eyes quickly darted to the vulpine’s arm at his side and back before nodding politely in turn. “Thank you all for coming. The aid of your teams could be what turns the tide.” He gestured to the Anglar alongside him. “This is Commodore Kasolle – her unit will be working alongside us for this mission.”

“Greetings”, the Anglar said in the deep rasp characteristic of her species. “I am honored to meet you at last, Captain McCloud.” If Fandrana hadn’t specified her gender, Fox never would’ve known. To the best of his knowledge he’d never even _met_ a female Anglar before… but now he was wondering if he actually had, and just never noticed. He froze that line of thought before he had the chance to think about how many faux pas he might’ve racked up over the last few years – now wasn’t the time.

“Thank you”, Fox responded, a little taken aback both by the revelation and the fact meeting him was an honor. He put on what he hoped was a disarming, upbeat smile. “I hope we all live up to that reputation.”

“I’m sure we will”, Wolf grumbled darkly, apparently deciding now was the time to insert himself into the conversation. “Now can we get this over with? The sooner we get our mission prerogatives the sooner we can wrap this up.”

Fox cringed a little, and noticed Panther ticking a brow – but if the Venomians were offended, they didn’t show it. Fandrana nodded in understanding; and if Anglar emotional displays were standard across their species, then Fox recognized what Kasolle was doing right now as a small chuckle.

“Of course”, the lemur captain answered. “We have a streetcraft just this way that’ll take us to the ziggurat – it’s a short drive. Senator Bowman can explain the situation in more detail when we’re there.” He wore a pleasant smile that struck Fox as insincere. “Shall we?”

……….

The city looked different, but it was hard for Wolf to put his finger on _how_. He watched the sights that passed them by through tinted windows as their streetcraft slowly made its way through the traffic of the city’s central thoroughfares, trying to figure it out. It certainly wasn’t because a change in the architecture or climate – Mania was just as much a smoggy hive of hovels now as it was in his best-forgotten yesteryears. Maybe it was the signage displaying advertisements for sugary drinks and holofilms instead of propaganda posters, or the greater number of civilian vehicles taking up roadspace.

It wasn’t until they passed by a family of chameleons that it hit him: it was the _expressions_. The locals looked just like they did on any other planet in Lylat – bored, unconcerned, that pleased sort of listlessness that comes with routine, so at odds with the war brewing around them. He saw no furtive glances, no looks of fear or anxiety. None of these people were worried about being taken off the street for unknown reasons – or, as Wolf knew it happened so often from experience, no reason at all, just to keep the populace on its toes. No one was looking out for their neighbors’ bad behavior to report on it and subsequently deploy a safety net for themselves. Mania was full of normal, well-adjusted people leading normal, well-adjusted lives – and that was pretty abnormal.

“The city’s come a long way”, Fandrana broke the silence. “Though there’s still a lot of room for improvement. Senator Bowman was planning to implement a ventilation system to clear out all the haze before this mess started.”

“It sounds like Senator Bowman has lots of ideas”, Krystal supplied. Wolf fought the urge to roll his eyes; having _ideas_ and actually getting them done were two very different things.

“Yes”, the lemur responded. “And we’re looking forward to getting back to realizing them once this situation is behind us.”

If _this situation will be behind you,_ Wolf thought. He could see the old ziggurat getting closer, revealed in fits and starts from behind the somewhat-taller buildings near the city center. It made him nauseous.

“What other public works projects do you guys have planned?”, Fox asked politely. Wolf noticed the vulpine was gripping his paws together pretty tightly, all-but wringing them.

The lemur smiled, and Wolf had to admit it was a handsome smile. He was beginning to see why Bowman brought him into his inner circle: having a former Andross guy on his team had to have helped him win over a bunch of hardliners, and you couldn’t ask for a better face to represent the old regime than a charming, disarmingly polite captain. What better way to remember the good old days of whole families getting lined up for the firing squad?

“Well, beyond the smog clearance, there are plans to do something about the acid rain. We ultimately want to improve the city’s infrastructure, but it’ll be difficult to do unless we handle that first. Luckily, the Anglars have systems for water purification, and they’re sharing them with us.” He turned to his side to share that smile with Ms. Fishface at the exact moment they passed by a corner building Wolf vividly remembered – it was a convenience store, and he’d been there while Leon worked his magic on the suspected dissenter who ran it. Wolf never found out if it’d been true, but the owner paid the price either way.

“I’m surprised you don’t have the city on lockdown”, Falco said, a small scowl on his face.

Fandrana’s smile dimmed somewhat. “Mania is secure. We have enough anti-air batteries to ensure no one, whether they be Octovarian, insurgent or otherwise, can stage an assault. This is a haven on Venom.”

Wolf’s eyes drifted from the city outside the window to the lemur’s own. “You sure about that?”, he asked the captain darkly, quietly. The unspoken circumstances on Aquas settled on the compartment like a pall.

But the lemur nodded. “We’ve taken additional precautions over the last twenty-four hours, in light of… recent events.” Their craft rounded a corner onto a wide, central highway leading directly into the ziggurat, and he took the opportunity to divert the conversation. “We’ll be arriving in a moment, and Senator Bowman will want to start the briefing right away.”

“Of course”, Fox assented. Fandrana looked to the larger canine sitting next to him, but Wolf stayed silent – what was he going to do? Get all the way here and say ‘no’ at the last moment?

_That’s still an option_ , he thought unbidden. It was a coward’s option, though, and Wolf didn’t like to think of himself as cowardly.

“Sure”, Wolf said with obviously exaggerated cheer. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Darkness overtook the streetcraft as it entered the overlarge tunnel leading into the heart of the ziggurat, and a hazy sense of déjà vu came over Wolf right along with it. How many times had he been in craft just like this, entering this very same tunnel? It was too many to separate in his mind – they all blurred together after a while. He’d sit in a compartment just as he was now, tuning out Andrew and Pigma’s incessant chattering. Those were the days when Leon was his closest compatriot.

Though if he was being honest with himself, that was probably just because Leon was the only one who’d ever shut up.

Now he was sitting here with _Fox McCloud_ of all fucking people. It was like a surrealist cosmic joke, or a uniquely bizarre fever dream. None of this felt _real_.

He wondered if Fox felt the same way.

Their craft came to a stop at the exact same terminal it always did, one at the very heart of the ziggurat’s sprawling internal labyrinth. The doors slid open, and they began to disembark. It didn’t look like they’d done any interior redecorating – same old megalithic poly-stone walls, same faux-ancient pillars and heroic façades Andross had commissioned (through force) to create a sense of artificial history. Even the same damn old glow-globes, their incandescent buzz adding a certain lifelike play of shadows over the classical statues set in little alcoves here and there, making them look like they could come to life at any moment. As if you were constantly being watched.

“You alright?”, Fox asked with a whisper. Wolf looked at him, and instantly felt sheepish. Here he was moping over all this shit while a man with one hell of a better reason to freak out was keeping his cool. 

He put on a wayward grin for the vulpine. “I should be asking _you_ that, pup.”

Fox clearly didn’t buy it, but he didn’t press further either. Wolf was glad for that. He really wasn’t in the mood for a heart-to-heart in the bowels of Andross’ dead ambitions.

“If you’ll come this way”, Fandara urged them on, voice echoing in the cavernous space. They followed him up a flight of rough, stone-hewn stairs that led to a too-narrow hallway. Most of the complex’s interior was like this: byzantine stone corridors that weaved all over the place with little rhyme or reason, not a single floor of the building laid out similarly to the others, and each one a maze. Wolf never knew if it was designed as an intentional ploy to keep people unnerved and confused, or if this whole building was a warning sign for Andross’ lapse into insanity they should’ve heeded much earlier on. He’d spent years of his life here, and even _he’d_ be lost without the lemur leading them.

Panther sidled up to him. “I wasn’t expecting it to be quite this… _chaotic_ ”, he confided.

Wolf side-eyed him. “Well, what _did_ you expect?”, he bit back.

The feline thought on it for a moment. “I’d been led to believe Andross was a very rigid ruler. I suppose I anticipated something a bit more orderly – sterile, even. At least based on the exterior.”

_And wasn’t_ that _a metaphor_ , Wolf thought. “He was good at making people think that way.”

“Like you?”, Fay asked, causing Wolf to realize his and Panther’s conversation was audible to everyone else in the group. The fact he _hadn’t_ been hyperaware of the rest of them was proof positive he was out of it.

“…Yeah”, he admitted, looking her way. There wasn’t any hint of malice in her expression – the question had been innocent. “Like me.”

An awkward silence slithered Fox’s team as they continued, but not Wolf’s. Falco, Krystal, Slippy – they all looked a little uncomfortable at the topic. But there was no judgment in Panther and Fay’s expressions. How could there be? Panther’d been a criminal too; and Fay, well – Wolf wasn’t sure it was even possible for her to judge someone. She didn’t have it in her.

It was Fox’s reaction that he noticed most of all, though. The vulpine looked at him with a certain air of realization, as if a puzzle piece he’d been looking for had fallen into place. Wolf surreptitiously met that look with an inscrutable one of his own.

“Here we are”, the lemur pronounced as they stopped in front of an otherwise nondescript door. He opened it, revealing a bland, functional conference room already playing host to a few other animals – most prominently Dash Bowman, cut short in his pacing, and Minister Mirno, sitting hunched over the table with head in hand.

“You’re here – good”, the ape started without preamble. “We don’t have a lot of time. The briefing has to wait – one of our bases is under attack.”

Falco groaned. “Figures.”

“By who?”, Fox asked as he approached Bowman, quickly taking charge of the situation.

“The Adherents”, Bowman answered as he passed a datapad to Fox. “A few Octovarian dropships landed near their suspected hideouts about an hour ago. We knew they were bolstering their numbers, but we thought we had more time. _I_ thought we had more time. I’ve already scrambled our fighters”, he cut off Fox’s next question with a preemptive answer. “But we could use all the help we can get.”

The vulpine nodded. “Of course.”

Mirno made a sound Wolf took for something akin to a throat-clearing. “Senator, perhaps you should… _tell_ them? About what we discussed earlier?”

Bowman shot a cutting glance at the Anglar minister, and it took Wolf aback. Worse than that, it took him _back_. He’d never seen the ape angry before. He looked just like his uncle.

He felt something rise in the back of his mind, something red and raw and angry. No one seemed to notice it – no one but Krystal, whose eyes swiveled towards him in surprise. He didn’t want to look into them, didn’t want to see whatever he was feeling reflected there.

“…We don’t have time right now”, Bowman finally answered. “It’s too complicated. We’ll talk about it once the base is secured.”

“Dash”, Fox said, voice understanding but firm. “If this is something that’ll affect this mission, we need to know. If you haven’t been entirely honest with us, I’ll get it – but I’m not going to fly my team into a situation without knowing all the details.”

The air turned as stony as the walls for a few seconds, but the ape looked to the minister – and the Anglar nodded slowly. The simian sighed. “…Alright. I’ll tell you what you need to know right now, on the way.” Wolf saw Mirno’s eyes narrow – he must’ve caught the same precise wording Wolf had.

“On the way?”, Falco asked. “You’re coming _with_ us?”

“Don’t worry”, Bowman said, seemingly oblivious to the fact that statement was bound to cause more worry than anything else. “I’ll keep far away from the fighting, even if I don’t want to. I’ve already been scolded enough times by my security team to know just how close I can get before I give any of them a panic attack.” The Anglar captain they came in with sighed exasperatedly, and Fandrana grinned a grin that looked more painful than pleased.

“Alright”, Fox stated, tone resolute. “Let’s get rolling, then. You guys ready?” The vulpine’s own teammates nodded, and Wolf looked to Panther and Fay – the feline rolled his shoulders in a noncommittal shrug, and Fay dropped into a stereotypical military solute.

“We’re ready, too”, Wolf answered.

“Excellent”, Bowman said, already hurrying out the door and ushering them to follow. “Don’t worry about driving all the way back to the hangar, we can take my own gunship there.”

Falco’s eyes narrowed. “Wait – you mean we could’ve just flown right in here to begin with? Why _didn’t_ we?”

Bowman looked a little abashed. “…I thought it would be nice to see the city. To see what we’re fighting for, here.”

Wolf snorted – he couldn’t help it. The naivete was immeasurable.

Fox glared at him before striking up a closer conversation with the simian, talking as they walked.

“Dash – what the hell was that about back there?”

The ape looked even more uncomfortable now than he did at Falco’s question. “…We’re having issues with a… _rogue element_ , I guess you could say. Another wrench in all of this.”

Fox looked undeterred. “What sort of rogue element?”

They stopped as a section of the wall slowly slid apart, revealing a small hangar containing a lone gunship. The bay doors on the other end opened, a gust of light and wind filling the musty room with what passed for fresh air and sunshine on Venom.

“A pilot”, Bowman said quietly, voice barely audible over the billowing breeze coming from the outside. “A fighter.” Fandrana and Kasolle jogged to the gunship to get it started, and they started to follow.

“…A ghost.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there is yet ANOTHER mystery to be added to the pile!
> 
> As always, thanks for kudos, comments and criticism!


End file.
